


Settling In

by Firondoiel



Series: Recovery [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Chronic Pain, Depression, Eating Difficulties, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Qui-Gon Jinn Needs a Hug, Worried Qui-Gon Jinn, Written for the QuiObi Writing Discord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29342394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/pseuds/Firondoiel
Summary: After almost a year, they have finally moved out of the Halls of Healing. Life still holds many struggles and obstacles for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, but sometimes there are moments of peace amid the strife.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Recovery [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862353
Comments: 16
Kudos: 128





	Settling In

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to sanerontheinside for the beta read and to LuvEwan and happygiraffe for their encouragement.

The whistle of the kettle pulled Qui-Gon from his thoughts. Anakin’s spirited chatter drifted in from the other room, answered by the calmer hum of Obi-Wan’s voice. It pleased Qui-Gon to witness the growing connection between the two of them. Obi-Wan had warmed to Anakin, and the boy’s visits often seemed to brighten weary, pain-filled days. 

Qui-Gon hoped that it would be enough today to rouse Obi-Wan’s appetite. Countless health struggles plagued them, but the main one in Qui-Gon’s mind was getting Obi-Wan to eat. Vokara’s cautions never strayed far from Qui-Gon’s mind; if Obi-Wan continued to lose weight, he would be required to move back to the Healer’s for his own safety. An option Qui-Gon remained determined to avoid. 

They had scarcely been in their new quarters a full tenday, but they were both comforted to have the faintest hint of normalcy again. They still made trips down the corridor to the Halls of Healing, but they returned to a home instead of the small recovery room. Obi-Wan’s relief to be granted some privacy after so long was still palpable. The rush of energy from the first couple days now dwindled, cruelly worn down by continued bouts of pain and the drugged haze of medication, but Qui-Gon still sensed contentment in Obi-Wan at times. Not the dutiful, resolved contentment of someone making the best of things, but an honest peacefulness. 

Qui-Gon blinked a few times and poured the tea into a waiting cup, inhaling deeply as the fragrant steam rose. The tea was his latest attempt at soothing Obi-Wan’s stomach. He had discovered this brew in his research weeks ago, but it had taken this long to have an order shipped from the lone planet that grew it. He sent out a hope that this attempt would have some success. 

“And Professor Huyang told us about the labyrinth there, but that every initiate’s journey is different,” Anakin was saying as Qui-Gon entered. The boy was seated on a chair by the couch idly swinging one foot, much more relaxed when Qui-Gon had first met him on Tatooine. “No one can predict what exactly you’ll find.”

“No, they can’t exactly.” Obi-Wan reclined on the couch, bolstered by several strategically placed pillows. “But you can expect a test.”

“A test?” Anakin’s foot froze. “On what? I’m doing pretty good in most classes, but galactic history tests never go well. But I do study, I swear.”

“No, Anakin. Not like that.” Obi-Wan bit back a smile. “It’s a test of your character. You will have to face something you fear or overcome a failing in order to find your crystal.” 

“Oh, wizard.” Anakin visibly relaxed and sighed in relief. 

The smile grew on Obi-Wan’s lips, amusement lighting up his eyes. Something inside Qui-Gon’s chest suddenly released, so quickly it was almost painful. When was the last time he had seen genuine happiness on Obi-Wan’s face? It had to have been before Naboo. Maybe it was the time Obi-Wan had teased him over the short “negotiations” with the Trade Federation. All mischievous and pleased with himself at ribbing his old master. 

Anakin was good for him. He was good for them both. 

“Learning about Ilum, are we?” Qui-Gon bent to set the tea on the side table at Obi-Wan’s elbow. He brushed his fingers over Obi-Wan’s forehead and through his hair as he straightened. 

“Yeah!” Anakin perked up. “I’ll get my kyber crystal, and then I’ll have my own lightsaber, and you can teach me how to spar.” 

“That is correct, but your trip to Ilum will not be for some time.” Qui-Gon moved behind the couch to fetch another pillow and prop it under Obi-Wan’s knees. “But we will begin learning some basic katas and perhaps I will show you some of the Shii-Cho techniques.” 

“That’s Form I. The Disarming Slash?” 

“That is correct, Anakin.” Qui-Gon stayed bent over the top of the couch, resting on his elbows. “The Disarming Slash is one of the notable attacks used in Shii-Cho.”

“It’s a strike at your opponent’s weapon to knock it out of their hands,” Anakin said confidently, with a side smile to Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan explained it to me. Along with the body target zones. I can show you.” 

Anakin glanced around and grabbed the empty bottle of juice he had drunk. Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan questioningly, but Obi-Wan kept watching Anakin as the boy scurried to stand in the center of the room. 

“Like this, Master Qui-Gon?” The movements were a little clumsy but Anakin managed to execute a few basic Form I maneuvers, looking excitedly between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon when he finished. 

“That is well done for a beginner.” Qui-Gon stood tall again. “I did not think they had moved onto this part in your Initiate classes yet.” 

“Well...they hadn’t exactly…” 

“I explained it to him,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “When he was here the other day. We started talking about the different forms. It just sort of happened. I apologize if I have overstepped.” 

“Of course you haven’t.” Qui-Gon just caught himself before he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Anakin is eager to learn.” 

“I could only talk him through it, correct small things. He needs someone to demonstrate, of course.” Obi-Wan turned away, suddenly reaching for the tea, needing something to do with his hands. Qui-Gon said nothing as he watched Obi-Wan take a small sip. 

“What did you think, Obi-Wan?” Anakin diverted them away from any awkwardness. “Was that better than last time?” 

“Yes, a bit. Your hold still isn’t quite right though.” Obi-Wan gestured for Anakin to come closer. He reached for Anakin’s hands and adjusted them on the bottle. “See, your right hand needs to go here. Relax your wrist a bit. Like that.”  
Pride and something else came over Qui-Gon as he watched his former padawan instruct his new student. As Obi-Wan managed to teach and guide even as he lay on the couch. Maybe it was relief. Perhaps admiration, or even grief over the life now taken from Obi-Wan welling up inside him again. 

He noticed that Obi-Wan managed to drink over half the cup of tea by the time Anakin returned to the dorms.

\---------

“Padawan Eerin returned with Master Fisto a few days ago,” Qui-Gon said softly as he massaged Obi-Wan’s legs. They were still on the couch. Qui-Gon sitting with Obi-Wan’s legs draped over his lap so he could work out the stiffness in the muscles.

Obi-Wan stared down at the blanket covering his upper thighs. His fingers traced over the stitching on a seam. “Oh?” 

“She had hoped to see you when she was last here. Padawan Tachi had as well.”

“I know.” Obi-Wan swallowed. A loose stitch caught on his nail. He fiddled with it between two fingers. “I was having another spinal surgery when Siri and Bant were here.”

“You were,” Qui-Gon agreed. “You were in no condition for visitors then. They both understood that.” 

“They won’t be prepared to see me so...changed.” 

“They wish to see their friend, and they are aware of what happened. You need not worry about their reaction. Your friends will not think less-”

“No.” Obi-Wan flinched. The seam ripped open as he tugged his hand away. “I had hoped to be more recovered before I saw them.” 

Qui-Gon said nothing. He reached out and straightened the blanket, tucking away the loose seam, then settled his hand over one of Obi-Wan’s. “You do not have to see them if you do not wish it. I only ask that you do not let doubt guide your judgment, particularly if it is directing you away from what you truly want.” 

Obi-Wan nodded and slumped against the pillows, tired. He turned his hand up and wrapped his fingers around Qui-Gon’s, palm to palm. Warmth from Qui-Gon’s hand sunk into Obi-Wan’s cold one as Qui-Gon squeezed back. 

“Are you ready to move into the bedroom for the night?”

“I’m sure I will be once we finally make it there.” Obi-Wan’s mouth curved into a smile. It wasn’t as bright as the one he had given Anakin earlier, but Qui-Gon still treasured it. 

Obi-Wan had some feeling in his legs today, something that was gradually becoming more consistent. Too gradually for Obi-Wan’s wishes. But they had moved past any feelings of embarrassment over the times, like now, when Qui-Gon lifted Obi-Wan in his arms, one arm under his legs and one supporting his back. Moving with care to not jostle Obi-Wan anymore than necessary as he was transferred to his hoverchair. 

Fortunately, the fresher was large enough for the hoverchair to maneuver, which allowed Obi-Wan to do most of his nightly routine on his own. 

Qui-Gon tried not to linger outside the fresher door. Obi-Wan deserved some privacy, especially after all this time without it. So, Qui-Gon lingered down at the end of the hallway, still within earshot and his mind open to their bond. Just in case. He reasoned that it was just for now. As Obi-Wan got stronger (and he _would_ get stronger), he would no longer need to be close by at all times.

\---------

It did take a while to get Obi-Wan settled and to go through his nightly medications. Of course, Qui-Gon could never retire himself until well after Obi-Wan had fallen asleep and rested comfortably. It was much later when Qui-Gon made it to his own bed.

The bed was small, but it felt luxurious after the many nights sleeping on the cot. At least his entire body fit. If he extended his arms very much, they would hang off the bed, but he didn’t mind. He could actually sink into this mattress. His bones creaking as they relaxed into the softness. 

But falling sleep was hard. Perhaps harder than it had been at the healers where it was never completely quiet and someone always came in multiple times throughout the night to check on Obi-Wan. 

Here, it was _too_ quiet. So silent that it overwhelmed the senses. Qui-Gon sometimes had to go into a light meditation to drown it out. 

After a few nights, he had placed a small tabletop fountain in his room. The gentle trickling of water hardly sounded like the hum of the healers’ monitors, but it was something. Just something to make a bit of noise.

Not that it truly mattered. He always got up to look in on Obi-Wan. Once, twice, maybe five times a night. He knew he would be able to sense any sudden pain or discomfort in the Force, provided Obi-Wan didn’t shield from him, but he found that he still needed to see Obi-Wan with his own eyes. Touch his forehead to check for fever or divert bad dreams. Obi-Wan’s blanket always slipped down during the night and needed to be tucked back around his slim shoulders. 

Obi-Wan didn’t wake up often, usually too heavily sedated to be aware of Qui-Gon’s presence, but his medications were constantly being adjusted. Sometimes Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan unconsciously reaching for him in the Force, especially if he had just been lost in a nightmare. Qui-Gon would gently reach back to soothe him for a moment, then guide him back into a deeper sleep. 

Other times, Obi-Wan would blink at him, eyes dull and foggy, not comprehending as Qui-Gon softly murmured in his ear. Stroking his hair until his eyes closed again. 

On the worst nights, Obi-Wan would startle awake and gasp in pain, spasms rocking his body. But even then, he was not fully conscious. It had only happened once since they left the Healers. That night, Qui-Gon couldn’t do anything except climb onto the bed to brace him while they waited for the pain meds to take effect. Once they finally did, Obi-Wan fell limp with exhaustion and passed out. 

Qui-Gon couldn’t leave him after that. He sat by the bed and held Obi-Wan’s hand, kept watch over his sleep-both physically and through the Force-to make sure nothing else disturbed Obi-Wan that night. No matter how often it had happened at the Healers, it still cut Qui-Gon deeply to witness him suffering so much. 

He had watched Obi-Wan struggle with pain for the last several months. Sat by him in the medical bed, but it seemed different now. It was wrong to see him like this here. It wasn’t the quarters they had shared for the last several years, but it resembled them closely enough. It was their home, where Obi-Wan had always been so alive and bright in the Force. Qui-Gon thought he had accepted the idea of their new lives, but he had been wrong. Obi-Wan’s pain here made it a reality.

Tonight, Qui-Gon awoke in the early hours of the morning. He felt confusion and distress that wasn’t his own welling inside him. Nightmares. The sheets fell around him as he sat up, but then he paused, sensing something else.

Obi-Wan was awake. 

Qui-Gon was moving towards the door before his feet actually touched the carpet. He didn’t sense much increase in pain beyond the normal rise when Obi-Wan would regain consciousness. But Obi-Wan seldom woke on his own like this, not with all his medications. 

The first antidepressant Obi-Wan had tried caused a few hellish nights of insomnia, but the one he took now didn’t interact with any of his other medicines. 

It might not even be the antidepressants. A different medication could no longer be effective. They sometimes had to switch around prescriptions. Something Obi-Wan dreaded. The trial period while he adjusted to the new meds was never easy. 

_Kriff_ , Qui-Gon hoped it wasn’t that. They were only just settling into their new lives. Their routine almost felt familiar now. Obi-Wan didn’t need another change so soon. 

He paused outside the door to calm himself, but only for a second. When he entered, he found Obi-Wan laying in bed on his side, just how Qui-Gon had last left him. Except now, his eyes were open and seeking out Qui-Gon’s gaze when the door opened. 

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon strode to the bedside and pressed the back of his hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead. Then his cheek. And then gently smoothed back his hair. A pattern that had become second nature. “What’s wrong?”

“A dream.” Obi-Wan’s eyelids drooped, and his words slurred together. “It’s alright.” 

“It can hardly be alright if it woke you.” Qui-Gon turned to the bedside table, scanning the contents. Had he forgotten a dosage? The pain didn’t seem to be worsening, so it couldn’t have been that. The sleep medication? Qui-Gon felt certain he had given it to Obi-Wan like always, but now he questioned himself. “Is it the pain?”

“No.”

“Do you feel nauseous?” 

“No.” 

“Stiffness? Muscle cramp? Do you need to be resituated?” 

“No, Master.” 

Qui-Gon wrapped his fingers around Obi-Wan’s wrist, taking his pulse. He studied Obi-Wan while counting in his head. Awareness flickered in those clouded eyes. Unconsciousness obviously pulled at Obi-Wan, but he was resisting. His eyelids would threaten to close only to quickly flutter open again. Qui-Gon stroked over his cheek, feeling a trickle of warmth beneath his thumbs. 

“Was your dream-”

“Don’t.” The word came out clearly, forcefully. A hint of pleading. 

Qui-Gon obediently fell silent, mentally noting everything for his call to Vokara in the morning. For now, he would treat what he could. 

Obi-Wan had curled his fingers around the hand Qui-Gon had placed on his wrist. Qui-Gon made no move to dislodge it, reaching for the water on the bedside table with his other hand. Obi-Wan didn’t protest, but he only took a few small sips before turning his head away, looking exhausted and small against the pillows. But he showed no signs of returning to sleep. His consciousness still glowed strongly in the Force, if somewhat muted from the drugs in his system. 

Every question Qui-Gon asked regarding symptoms was met with a negative response, leaving Qui-Gon puzzled, relieved, and concerned all at once. Especially as Obi-Wan’s eyes remained at least part-way open. They were dry now, but held a sadness that Obi-Wan was too sedated to conceal. 

Qui-Gon was at a loss for what he could do, then Obi-Wan shivered. Another check revealed that his skin was cool to the touch. Qui-Gon retrieved another blanket from the closet and laid it over Obi-Wan, smoothing it over his limbs with care. After pulling it up to Obi-Wan’s chin, Qui-Gon moved to sit in the chair by the bed. 

Obi-Wan shoved his hand out from the blanket cocoon and grabbed Qui-Gon, just as he had done the night he agreed to leave the healers, and halted him before he could withdraw any further. 

“I’m not leaving you, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon put his hand over Obi-Wan’s fingers and squeezed. “I will be here until you fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan only stared. Obviously turning over several thoughts in his mind, but unable to put them into words. Then he reached into their bond and opened himself to Qui-Gon. 

Realizing what Obi-Wan needed, Qui-Gon smiled gently and sent a wave of understanding through the Force. He eased himself down onto the bed and rested his back against the headboard. Obi-Wan relaxed, but kept his grip on Qui-Gon’s arm. 

“You’re still cold.” Qui-Gon gathered Obi-Wan’s hand in both of his own and held it against his chest as if to warm it. 

“Not as bad as before,” Obi-Wan muttered, leaning into Qui-Gon a little. 

Just as he promised, Qui-Gon stayed beside Obi-Wan and watched until Obi-Wan finally gave into the insistence of the drugs--his eyes slowly closing as sleep overcame him. 

Qui-Gon sighed, grateful. Obi-Wan may not have wished to say anything about the dream that had been powerful enough to wake him, but Qui-Gon had caught a flash of red and black before Obi-Wan shielded. 

Sorrow clenched around Qui-Gon’s chest. He reflexively pressed Obi-Wan’s hand more firmly against his heart, then raised it to his lips to kiss the back of it. When he lowered it, he breathed in raggedly through his nose and adjusted until he was lying on the bed, Obi-Wan’s hand still in his hold. 

Here, there was no babbling fountain trying to lull Qui-Gon to sleep. Instead, he drifted off to the familiar rhythm of Obi-Wan’s breathing.

\---------

Qui-Gon rinsed out the tea kettle. He didn’t usually bother with washing it between brews, but today he did. They had both slept through the rest of the night. Having so many hours in a row of uninterrupted sleep for the first time in nearly a year granted Qui-Gon an excess of energy today. The daily tasks seemed easier, attainable.

Obi-Wan had requested to move to the couch again. Two days in a row. He had been almost alternating between his bedroom and the living area. Fatigue, pain, or a host of other issues could keep Obi-Wan in his bed for the day. Qui-Gon suspected that Obi-Wan’s reluctance to ‘trouble’ his old master with moving him likely played a role as well. 

But not today. Settled in just as carefully as yesterday, Obi-Wan had been leaning against Qui-Gon’s mountain of pillows reading a datapad while he drank his tea. Another half cup, which meant Obi-Wan might be able to eat again today. And then that meant that Qui-Gon could breathe just a little easier. 

The sound of a commlink switching on came from the living area. Nervousness flared in the Force around Obi-Wan, but then someone answered the call. 

“Obi?”

“Hi Bant.” 

Qui-Gon leaned over the sink and exhaled loudly with his eyes closed, riding the swell of warmth in his chest for a moment. When he raised his head, he had to swipe a hand over his eyes, but he was smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for all the comments you've left, both here and on Tumblr. They are so very appreciated. <3


End file.
